Washed away.

and my thoughts swallow up sad 

b r o         k e n

memories

like a gaping fish

[ d r o w n i n g ] in your oxygen

thought-ridden brows frowning in confusion/frustration/aggravation

-i'd kiss those little wrinkles on your forehead-

the place where your fringe parts,

ever-so-perfectly-falling-into-your-eyes

greengreenbrown mountains

like parched autumn leaves 

tears don't seem to 

f

a

l

l

 anymore

"you're still beautiful"

(you didn't think so when you said goodbye)

i s t i l l t h i n k a b o u t y o u

butitsdifferentnow, justalittlebit

i'd still kiss your lips you know

now you'd wished you'd never let me go.

Down to Camelot.

and i'm crippled by the earth of your eyes

watch the fog and mirrors thrown around us

m i s t 

like your lips, like your whispers, like your 

kiss

it might be nice--you know?

to feel something?

and there is me

[all fragmented and broken--just the way you like it]

and you're the lancelot to my tragedy,

cracked and gilded as my heart--initials carved in stone

letters intertwining youmeus 

maybe this tragedy will end happilyeverafter.

do you hear their thunderous applause?

c u r t a i n . c a l l 

[Author's note: i believe that abstract writing does not agree with me. hmm..]

I'm not anyone special...

or maybe i'm just a mess of words, desperate to be put together,

desperate to find a place in your story,

desperate,

or maybe i'm just me.

It's a start.

i love .simplicity.

the smell of the air in the morning, the way the sunlight feels on my bare skin, the feeling of my sheets in between my thighs, the softness of the pillows around me, the warmth of satin and silk wrapped around my chest. the way my phone vibrates and I know that it's you. it's always you.

[ b r e a k ]

the way you say my name, syllables rolling off your tongue like the waves of pacific ocean, bluebluebluepiano like the way you hold yourself; the way you hold me, even for just split seconds in your arms. the way you tell me you wantmesobadly, lovemesobadly and the way you just make me smile--always, without fail. the way you say that you want me to focus on you and you only.

the way my heart beats around you

can you hear it?

"i think...

i'm starting to..."

Time Lapse.

his fingers lightly waltzes across your caramel skin, soyoungsoyoungso young

he bites his bottom lip, the lips you've always known and ice blue pierces your own henna brown with an underlying question, the question you've been waiting for all these years thumbing through history textbooks, pretending to read the words when all you're doing is hiding the fact that it's his face you're studying and finally, finally, you're free to take him (down to his purple ties) and to succumb to the desire that's burnt the edges of your heart all this time.

"yes," you hiss. "goddammityes"

there's no more hesitation as his eyes read the fire behind yours and you can feel the heat of his skin penetrate into yours, his love sinking into your pores and your lips as he embraces you into the warmth, the home of his chest--where you finally, finally, get to be.

"ive always loved you....always, sir."

"i know."

(dedicated to Juniper)

Extract01.

[Here's just a little introduction to a short story of mine.

Nothing important really, just thought that some of you might like to read.

Read the entire thing (click to be continued) if you wish.]

◊


“I’m still reeling from the loss,
still a little bit delirious”
A Fine Frenzy

◊

ZERO:Begin

“Oh shitshitshit,” she cried, perfectly manicured fingers running through cropped raven hair. She did not need this mess right now, or this splitting headache threatening to make her late for work…or that. She narrowed her almond eyes at the naked back of a young man sprawled next to her—Harry was it? Or Donovan? Jared?—and groaned when another ache rattled her sore brain. Last night was the last time she was going to touch alcohol...or maybe the night after.

Not Enough,

he can't bear it any longer,

the fire ebbing away at his mind.

he wants her,

he wants her,

he wants her,

he wants--

i want you too.

It's so sweet.

Dear You,

I drank in your love(?)

and vomited rainbows.

Love(d),

the girl you pushed away.

Climbing.

Your backbone is like the wall of china

and I have to scale it to break into your paper-thin walls.

Don't collapse on me,

yet.

Cinderella was too late.

"don't look at me"

"but you're beautiful"

***

The real world isn't like a fairy-tale. When you run away with tears streaming down your face, he isn't going to run after you, grab your arm, pull you into the homely feel of his chest and kiss your forehead--tell you that you're beautiful and that he wants you back. 

No. 

He's just going to walk away and feel a little pang over the fact that he made you cry ("justalittlebitiswear").

And when you're ready, he'll say sorry.

But you'll never be really ready,

And he'll never be really sorry.

Ballerina.

i need to find my balance

before i fa- oops.

f

 a

  l

   l

    i

     n

       g

tipping over into nothing-ness

.

it's... kind of comfortable here

isn't it?

Gravity.

you spoke and, 

my heart fell out of my chest

and kissed the ground

"  c  h  e  a  p  "

but my love for you comes without a price

Sunny side up?

The clouds roll over your collar bones

and fade away to wisps in your sapphire eyes

i imagine picnics spent in the crook of your arm

and the smell of home in your chest

spring is almost here

Pathetic Attempt.

I hide my soul from piercing eyes,

Whispered words swim in lies.

I weep in silence, I cry in fear,

shadowed eyes veil broken tears.

Shatter the truth and break me apart,

trace the jagged lines running down my heart,

feel the blossoming bruise from hailing rain,

drenching me in bitter p a i n .

Taste of spring

he was stupid,

but he was in love,

and in the end he finally found that girl he wanted,

and that takes a lot of commitment

so, now what?

 (guess we can't all be rainbows and butterflies)

Just fine.

"I'm Fine."

"define what you mean by 'Fine'"

"Fucked up. Why do you care?"

"Why would I ask otherwise?

Polychrome.

Like a disease,

footprints are mapped out for me,

in polychromatic lines of nausea.

I'm seasick, almost.

Perfume.

Your scent still lingers in my sheets and dances across my pillows,

like a fleeting ghost escaping my grasp [e s s e n c e ofyouandme]

I roll in you/me/us and find a home in your fading warmth--

goodbye.

see you again?

(i kind of still want to, just to make sure it wasn't a dream)

Dreaded words.

"Hey, we need to talk..."

the air around her evapourates,

she can't breathe, she can't breathe, 

no, no, no

she doesn't want this to happen,

this thing of her darkest nightmares

no, no, no--

Feeling the tears burning her eyes, 

she looks up at him and whispers,

"oh..okay."

no. no. no.

Line dancing.

I'm treading lightly on the in-between

balancing on the thin edge of reality and fantasy

and once in a while i step on a crack.

Catch me if I fall?

11:11 Wishes

A shooting star fell from your eyes

and burnt a hole in my heart.

Smooth out my creases with your tender touch,

and make me whole again

What would I be without you?

I ever don't want to find out.

is it hard to hold it in?

I can feel love pouring out from your skin,

feel it pulsate with every sharp take of breath between your teeth

 between my bottom lip and yours, trembling with anticipation

"slow down..."

You're gasping, fingers sliding down my sides,

engraving the memory of your touch and mine into flesh.

"i can't...no more..."

How do I tell you that I want you to stop,

without wanting you to stop

(please, devour me).

It's hard for me too,

I'm overflowing.

Letter 06: A Stranger

Dear Beautiful-Stranger-with-the-most-beautiful-eyes-i-will-ever-see-that-will-render-me-senseless-speechless-and-invade-my-dreams-and-seize-hold-of-my-darkest-desires,

Take me away, into your world.

Love,

(maybe even at first sight) 

To-be-Stranger.

Rollercoaster.

And it's wonderful, exhilarating even--you can feel the winds chasing each other through your hair and the warmth of the sun bathing your face in a golden glow as you race up towards the breaking clouds. She tells you that it feels like flying, and you tell her that maybe if you stretch out your hand and reach upwards, you can almost touch the sky [and sink into it's infinite serenity.]

Almost.

Simple regrets.

"I thought you said you'd never let go."

"I'm still here, aren't I?"

"But you let go of me."

"I wish you grabbed my hand and stopped me."

" I guess... I was just tired of holding on to empty air."

Desperate needs.

I'm not much one for praying. I find it useless--a futile attempt in wanting all your dreams and desires and leaving it to invisible forces to carry them out for you. Why can't you use your own efforts and your own power to make your dreams happen? Why can't you work towards your goals instead, put in every drop of sweat and blood and make it happen with your own hands? Of course you can.

But now I know, that sometimes when disaster strikes. Natural disasters, you can't do anything. You can fight against it, work to survive but you can't stop it. You definitely can't even do much when you're far away from the place of disaster and all you do is cry and bite your nails and realize that you are praying--hoping.

Praying for all those people there,

because when all else fails, there's still hope left.

...and I can't do much but hope. for now.

Japan

my heart goes out to you.

Abandon Ship.

They said that we would last, no matter what,

then again, they said the Titanic would too.

But why?

he wants to touch her; her rose-petal skin, gentle curves cased in alabaster (she's not that innocent really) flushed with peached satin. By god, he needs to touch her, feel her--feel her healing caress and the sinful velvet of her lips pressed on his, slightly pouted and parted as though whispering secrets. He wants to take her,  sate his desires; to sink into her and feel her aflame beneath him; flushed skin on ivory skin; oceans, sweat and tears clashing into one delightful, shuddering frenzy. He wants to make her his, forever, as long as he breathes.

he just didn't know that she wants him too,

even more than he wants her.

Letter 05: Your dreams

Dear dreams,

i've had enough

of you tugging at my heartstrings

and snapping me awake

dangling fragments of glass

inches from my spilling eyes

i thought i knew/dreamt/hoped/wanted heard

"i might actually just love you"

you're too cruel.

sincerely, your nightly prisoner

ps. i miss you, where did you go?

He'll just say.

"내가 '사랑한다' 말하며
그댄 '미안하다' 하겟죠"

I know that you still have feelings somewhere,

just buried deep, 7 feet under that smirk 

(i said seven because i'm feeling lucky)

I just need to keep digging deeper

until i strike gold.

i believe in you, you know?

he's just like them.

take my hand and follow me...

and you think that no, no he's different. he's not like one of those assholes who would just date you, pretend to love you with sweetened words and honey-combed messages before tossing your heart onto the floor like a piece of trash. 

Actually, he is an asshole. 

No, no, he is different--

he's just better at hiding it.

...to the place I long to be

words are only words.

and they will whisper

with fluttering secrets and lowered lashes

eyes peeking from shy, glittered lids

trying to peek into the shadows of his heart

and I will smile

knowing that flourishing in the darkness

of him, there is me,

and there will always only be,

just me.

of you, there's me,

and there'll always be

just me.

quaver.

i'd rather pretend that one day I might have you,

than try to reach out with trembling fingers

only to have your doors slam shut on them

pain is inevitable

no matter what tune I may play

Letter 04: Your Sibling

"it's beautiful isn't it?"

"yes, it is."

Dear You,

what happened to those days where we would frolic amongst the greenery in an innocence almost unreal--sought after, yearned for? what happened to those days where you would grasp my hand and with your own finger, trace the patterns and secrets of the world around me? what happened to those days where your voice would sing me to sleep, shout at me for breaking your toys and tremble with fear as you reveal to me all the secrets kept within? what happened to those days when I could look up at you, see the love shine from those eyes (so very like mine) and grin toothily, just knowing, knowing that you'd smile back.

what happened to us, brother,

what happened to love?

fatherly blood runs through our veins

mothers blood is the bar we cannot pass

it's not our fault we have different mothers

now your warm eyes have turned to winter ice

and you no longer smile back

Your not-quite-sister

Da-dum.

and i curl into the warmth of your chest

feeling the irregular beat of your heart

rise and fall in rapid rhythm to mine

sometimes even in the midst of the empty silence

i can feel you in my heart.

Distant by skin.

I can feel your warm breath on my shoulder,

and I miss you ;

where did you go?

Come back to me soon,

so I can love you, the you I love, lovingly.

Letter 03: Your Parents

To You,

I offer you my palms cupped in a pool of light,

where twilight stars burn a hole in my heart.

Stars aren't meant to be held by these hands

cracked,

with peeling porcelain mistakes i'm sorry, 

drowning in tempted desires and unseen intentions

just another forgotten/hidden/broken/thiswilldo ornament

lavished with lacquer "how beautiful!" and gold leaf

ever so silent, smiling, with tired eyes

telling you how much I love you

(and the pain you've given me)

Love,

your ornamental daughter

Et tu?

And the feelings you give me are all the ones 

that they write about in classic romance novels,

but we're not the typical Darcy and Elizabeth

(thereisnohappilyeverafterending)

yet

that comes after you tell me you love me

we still have a few pages to go.

Vintage love.

"please don't leave me alone..."

"i promise i won't ever leave you alone"

the sentence that echoes through everyone's mind--like a thousand voices that drown you in solitude as you huddle within yourself by yourself.

the sentence that echoes through your mind when you see them, an endless mantra because, goddamnit, you believe in nothing -- nothing -- but them,

our hearts are like g l a s s

chipped antiques stacked on dusty shelves,

no one wants.

Author's note: Yay! First collaboration with Juniper. I feel so complete.